Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Here Is a Story About Hair


I have spent one-third of my life growing out my hair. One-third wishing for long hair. And the last third daydreaming of long hair. In my wide-awake state, I would see myself with masses of silky tresses in such abundance that they necessitated gathering up in one hand and tossing across my shoulder like a rising tsunami before I could lean in and take a sip from a drinking fountain.

In the second grade, my brown tights snugly pulled down over my scalp served as my long hair stand-in. When the tights were in the laundry from their multiple use, then it was on to a sepia-tone bath towel artfully twisted into a top knot so that I could work it as one of The Supremes. Which Supreme I was didn't matter because all three had hair and enough of it to pile on top of a head.

My life and my hair are a simple relationship: I have always wanted a lot of it.

Age 2:  Here I am, trying to grow my hair out. Doesn't matter if I'm the one on the right or my brother is. We look the same.
 

(heyhey let's not talk about how kids were allowed to bounce along in the front seat, all right? dear LORD I hope my father is just parked for a cute photo opp and not actually DRIVING)


Age 3:  Growing my hair out.


Again, pay no mind to who is me versus who is the brother. *Surprise bonus Spanish lesson: on top of my head are the Colombian equivalent to corkscrew curls, known as "cachumbos" Repeat after me, kah-choom-bohs. Good job. **Also, what the heck, why is my mouth always open.

Age 4:  Growing my hair out.
You know the rules, my brother and I are interchangeable. (finally learned to close my mouth)
 
Age 5:  Growing my hair out, but thinking that maybe I can dance the time away while I wait.
 

Let's slap any old dress on and see if I can coax a tendril along.

Age 6:  Still growing my hair out. Is it Alexandra? Is it her brother? Doesn't matter, the hair is still not there. For either of us.



But I'm giddy with hope that maybe Santa will bring the hair I asked for.
 
Age:  Hair!
 

Age is Who cares I've got hair!

Age 18:  Hair Nation continues and just in time for Flash Dance/Jennifer Beals lookalike contest.


An inch of frosted ice eye shadow placed on the lid directly over your pupil will make your eyes pop! Not look like a Martian like your jackass soon to be ex boyfriend says.
 
Age 30:  I love having hair so much that I pay people to take pictures of it.
 


  Pirate blouse borrowed from Jerry Seinfeld

 
Age 32:  I finally have enough hair to be a Supreme!

Piles and piles of hair for miles! My bun is my lovechild.


Age 34:  I started having babies. They snatched my husband bald headed and tore at my scalp like cats fighting off a bath. I had no choice at 2 o'clock one afternoon except for Great Cuts, only $9.99 on Tuesdays and doesn't it look like it.
 

Just give me something chopped. And flat. Maybe parted down the middle. PERFECT.

 
Age 42:  I stopped having babies. For the next years, life will be a repeat of Ages 1-8: Trying to grow hair out.

Current State:  Hair is grown out due to secret hair-encouraging diet!
 

   Secret is Entemann's marble fudge cake. One piece daily.
 
Now along with wearing babies I can also wear my hair in a bun.
 

So glad I spent a third of my life growing my hair out so it could live on top of my head.
 
Again...


Whoa! Ease up on that athletic hair band especially when you don't do athletics.

and Again..


More secret hair growing recipe. This one is hair vitamin chocolate ice cream malt special.

and Again.



Experimenting with a new bun style: I call this one the split bow.

My Abuela used to crack herself up with a joke she told. She never got through it without busting into cackles along with an awful lot of thigh slapping (her own). It went like this, “An old woman went to her hairdresser. When she got there, she told her ::gasp-chortle-snort:: “Cut my hair so I don't look like an old woman anymore!” So the hairdresser cuts it all off, stands back and says, ::sputter-choke-choke:: “There! Now you look like an old man!” *abuela passes out from wheezing*

It is because of that joke, that I will never cut my hair.

The hair shall grow wild, free, (except for the expert color they do at Clementine's omg) until the day I look like a witch in the woods.

Too late. Kids, go get mama's broom.

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It's an old-fashioned Blog Hop! One topic: My Life in Hair, featuring some of the internet's finest. Click on the links below and see what they have to say about Their Life In Hair:


Shari Simpson of Dusty Earth Mother

 
 
 
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28 comments:

  1. These hair stories have been so much fun to read and see ....it's as if I'm watching you grow up and I love the "chapters". :)

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    1. You're such a support, Kir. You really are. I loved doing this hop, so much fun!.

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  2. So very loving all of this. Extra props to your Flashdance moment. xoxox

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    1. I almost won, Lisa, *this close* to being the winner. xo (this was fun , wasn't it?)

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  3. You really know how to rock that athletic hair band/bun combo! Well done! Did I see you playing in the Women's World Cup?

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    1. If I had Auggie's inhaler, you know I'd be in it.

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  4. Ah, the pirate shirt! Your hair more than makes up for it though. ;-)

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    1. THAT shirt! THOSE shirts! Impossible to keep them nice looking after wearing a seat belt.

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  5. Why did your blog eat my comment?! Maybe because it was, "Did your brother ever grow his hair out?"

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    1. Funny woman! Thanks for this, Nancy, so much fun!!

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  6. Perfection! I truly cannot pick a favorite, although the puffy shirt that nearly swallowed you whole is a contender.

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  7. The brother joke never got old, and I love this. LOL.

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  8. I love that joke. Love this post. Love it all. I have wanted long luscious locks forever, but I get too bored and then chop it off and then try to grow it out again, which completely frustrates the lady I guess b/c she gets tired of my going on about it. :) And it's never as long or as luscious as I imagine - like yours, it's usually in a ponytail. Until now! Now I'm keeping it short and poofy. It's kind of fun. :)

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    1. I don't want to look like the old man in the joke, Katie.

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  9. WHY did I never know the hair-growing powers of Entenmann's cake? *shakes fist at universe* As a person who has sported duck-fuzz her entire life, I loved this.

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    1. Entenmann's. TODAY! Just emailed you a prescription.

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  10. You are the most Supreme Pirate Cinnamon Bun I have ever seen. I love each one of these pictures so much - and the baby pics! Good lord, it's like I'm looking at baby Auggie! Love seeing all the family resemblance every which way.

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    1. Wasn't this fun, T. Nancy comes up with THE BEST. And your wonky leg? Good good. But the baby Dick Van Patten. TOO MUCH.

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  11. This made me laugh so hard that I spewed popcorn all over my computer keyboard.

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    1. Nothing in the world could make me happier than making dusty earth mother laugh. I swear.

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  12. So so funny! I feel your pain on sharing the same haircut as your brother...that was me for a few years too.

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  13. Oh, I loved getting a peek through your childhood! The age 6 photo of you in the red dress with that mischievous smile. Adorable. Long hair. Yup. Me too. I had it until I was about 11 and then I cut it all off and promptly spent the rest of my life (still trying) to grow it out. But I keep cutting it during my weaker moments. ;) Keep on growing that beautiful hair of yours!

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    1. Let it grow, Linda, no matter what those stupid magazines say about being over 40.

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  14. Love the hair. Love the photos. Love the sweet memories. SUPERLOVE the fact that I'm not the only one who wore her tights on her head. #soulsista

    XO
    A.

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    1. But we finally have real tights on our heads of our own! Life is good!

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  15. How Fun. Great Stories - made me laugh. I've told you this before, but I really do have hair envy when I see yours.

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  16. The pictures (and commentary) cracked me up!

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